Through Different Eyes
by ShutUpAndPull
Summary: A tiny glimpse into Caskett's missed movie night (4x23).


_**Through Different Eyes**_

Kate's eyes traced the line of the steel numeral anchored to his door as she stood alone in the evening hush of the hallway. Once, twice, three times and four they traveled before she realized her lips had curled into a grin, one, if caught, she'd surely blush trying to explain away. It felt much like the first time, she reminisced, the stirring anticipation of what she might find on the other side, but the man waiting for her inside was no longer an inconvenience thrust upon her world of carefully crafted walls and dead ends, no longer just a name on a dust jacket, no longer just a fantasy welcome only in the most hidden corners of her mind.

She hadn't even realized she'd knocked when Rick greeted her with a smile her already quickened heart could practically feel. Palpable exhilaration swirled in the space between them as she stepped past him into the unknown, after a long moment spent in each other's eyes. "You look...nice," he told her, having somehow managed to restrain his brain from unleashing the catalog of superlatives it'd amassed across their four years together. How many times he'd held his tongue in the face of her beauty. How much more difficult doing so had become with each passing day.

"Thank you, Castle," she replied in a tone far more Kate than Beckett. "So do you," she added, left somewhat bashful by their newfound candor. She thought of the extra moment she'd spent at the mirror in preparation as he turned to shut the door behind her, and she tucked her hair back behind her ear with a gentle smile. She wasn't like this, her inner voice tried to remind her. She wasn't open and vulnerable, not for a very long time - not since her mother - but as she watched him step towards her, she felt just how much she wanted to be.

"May I take your coat, Detective?" He was desperately trying to play it cool. The thought of frightening her off now made his heart sink. "I have the screen all set up for us," he shared excitedly.

Kate glanced over her shoulder to find a shower curtain staged for the evening's movie marathon. She recalled the first time he'd done the very thing for them and marveled silently at how different this night felt. "Looks familiar, MacGyver," she teased. "Do I get popcorn this time?"

He relieved her of her coat and set it over the back of a chair nearby. "Well, actually, I thought we might have some dinner first, but I'm always game for movie night snacks, so I'll save some room if you do." His hand found the small of her back and a soft electricity floated through him. "I have some wine and some menus out in the kitchen, and being the king of compromise that I am, I've decided to let you pick the delivery place," he said with a grin that beseeched praise for his chivalry.

Kate chuckled without a breath of thought - out of necessity, really. His hand at her back hadn't moved, and the effect of his touch on her state of balance, both physical and emotional, was, at least to her, most evident, but revealing that truth to him a moment after she'd stepped through his door certainly wasn't in her evening's plan. "Oh, you're the king of something, Castle. I'm not sure compromise would be the first word to come to mind, though."

She watched as his expression fell flat. "What exactly are you trying to say, Detective?" His hands dropped to his hips in hyperbolically impatient wait.

Kate, still standing close, leaned in just a bit. "I'm saying show me your menus, Castle. And how about sticking to 'Beckett' or 'Kate' when we're not at work, hmm? I'm not just a detective, you know," she said as she made a move towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, I know," Rick exhaled in reverent whisper, watching her every step as she crossed the room. "I know."

 **xxxx**

She wasn't even being veiled about it, but she couldn't help herself. Over and over, Kate found herself looking, watching his movements as she imagined he might've done with her in the beginning. He was sitting right there, so close, the Rick she'd come to know so well, the man who'd seen her through more than she'd ever allowed any other, and yet everything about him felt wonderfully new - the curve of his eyelashes, the scent of his soap, the sound of his laugh mingled with hers. It was as though she was learning him all over again through an entirely different set of eyes.

"Well, I see you didn't enjoy that at all," Rick jested, eyeing the near spotless plate in front of her. "Maybe _I_ should choose the menu next time."

Kate smirked and drew her napkin across her lips as his words set in. For the first time since her life had been so tragically altered, since the loss of her mother had filled her world with such uncertainty, she felt truly ready for a next time, one that involved him and only him. "Sure, Castle, that brilliant idea courtesy of a man who once tried to feed me a chocolate bar wrapped in an egg. You know, I have to say, I'm really glad your writing is more refined than your palate, though, now that I think about it-"

"Hey now," Rick interjected, sliding a wrapped fortune cookie in her direction with a playful snap of his tongue, "I just was just trying to do something nice for you. S'morelettes, I'll have you know, are a beautiful - not to mention delicious - way of expressing care and sympathy after a partner's apartment blows up and there's a crazed killer running around the city taunting them. Just ask Emily Post. I believe I read somewhere they were a favorite of hers." He pulled his own cookie from the plastic and cracked it in half, revealing the paper fortune inside.

"You've been living in fiction for far too long, Castle. Come back to us," Kate quipped, freeing her own hidden message with a roll of her eyes he was all too familiar with. In the moment that followed, her mind flashed back to the days she'd spent at his loft during that difficult period, at his invitation and, even more, his insistence, and she fell silent and still as she remembered the paralyzing resistance that'd lived inside her then.

"Hey, Kate, are you okay?" Rick said, shaking her from her meditation with his second effort. Her eyes landed on his after a few more seconds away. "Hi." He welcomed her back with tender tone. "It seems like I lost you there for a minute."

"No, I'm-I'm here, Castle." And she was. She was there now, completely. "Should we, um, go start the movies?" He reached out for her arm as she moved to stand. It was the second time he'd touched her, not that she was keeping track, though, in a way, now she was.

"You don't actually think you're leaving this table before we play the game, do you?"

Kate looked at him quizzically. "The game? What game?" Honestly, she was a bit nervous to even ask.

"Oh, come on Det-Kate," Rick stammered, recalling her earlier admonition about her label, "it's only the very best reason to eat Chinese food: reading the fortunes. And, of course, playing the game means adding _in bed_ to the end of whatever you get. You want to go first?"

He could barely contain his excitement, and Kate had to bite at the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. "Why don't you go ahead, Castle. Show a girl how it's done," she purred more than said, before unrolling her own paper she'd unknowingly curled into a ball and turning her attention back to him.

"Okay, here goes: _Try, and fail, and then try harder..._ in bed," Rick read with a dash of chagrin. He stared at the words as if willing them to magically transform into others, his brow furrowed, his mouth agape. "Well, that's-"

Kate watched him and delighted in the sudden pink of his cheeks. "Aw, don't worry, Castle, I hear it happens to every guy," she chaffed with audible amusement. "My turn?"

Rick crinkled up the tiny flag and tossed it onto his plate. "Sure, why not," he said with far less enthusiasm than he'd had just a moment ago.

"Mine says: _Opportunity awaits, reach out and grab it_ …in bed." She knew she should laugh, but somehow it felt too fitting to be funny. That's what this night was for her, after all, an opportunity to be seized, a chance to show him they both wanted the very same thing.

"Maybe Italian next time," Rick joked finally, noting the unexpected weight of the moment and offering respite. "Movie time?"

 **xxxx**

The open bottle of wine from dinner came with them to the couch, each nearly finished with a second glass as the first film of the night played on the makeshift screen before them. They sat close, separated only by a ceramic bowl of popcorn and a field of palpable energy born of their proximity, each pretending to have an investment in something besides the other.

"You look nice tonight. Have I told you that?" Rick said over the din of the protagonist's gunfire. Her scent had him so transfixed, he could barely remember much of anything. He tugged exaggeratedly with his teeth at the red rope of a Twizzler, like an awkward teenager on a first date. "Really, really nice."

He was watching her and she could feel it. The last time she'd found herself in a situation like this one - alone with him on a couch with his eyes on her - she almost hadn't been able to stop herself, and she now found that memory foremost in her mind. "You seem kind of nervous, Castle," she told him without looking away from the screen. "I always imagined you'd be better at this." All she could do was have fun with it, something to help quell her own butterflies.

Rick chuckled and sipped down some wine before he fully processed what she'd said. "Clearly you haven't spoken with either of my ex-wives. That's not very detective-like of you, Ms. Beckett. You're usually very thorough." He leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table. "Though, I must say, I do enjoy the fact that you've imagined things about me."

He had no idea the extent to which she'd imagined, but she wasn't about to gift him that satisfaction, regardless of just how tempted she was. "Now why doesn't that surprise me?" She reached over and slid his wine glass out of his immediate reach. "Before you dig too deep a hole and say som-"

"I wanted to kiss you that night. I wanted to kiss you that night more than I've wanted to do almost anything in my life," Rick proclaimed, cutting her off, "and that might be too deep a hole, but I can't sit here, this close to you, for another second without saying it."

"Castle," Kate began without any plan for what words would follow. "When?" It wasn't at all what she expected she might hear herself say, but she felt instantly emboldened by it.

Somewhat surprised by her curiosity himself, he went on, hoping she'd continue to permit him the indulgence. "That night in the hotel room in L.A. after you told me about meeting Royce."

Kate adjusted her body on the couch and turned to face him, tucking her feet up beneath her. "Oh, right, you mean the night you told me I was hot. That night?" she prodded coquettishly.

Rick cleared his throat awkwardly and stretched for his wine glass that was no longer there. "That would be the one, yes," he confirmed, "and I obviously won you over with my considerable charm, seeing as how you couldn't get out of the room fast enough." He pushed back against the cushions and dipped a hand into the bowl of popcorn, simply to have something - anything - to do in the lull that ensued.

Kate felt his words deep inside. She remembered how difficult it was for her to get up and walk away from him that night, how she stood out of sight and willed herself to go back for what she wanted, how she thought only of him in the hours afterwards when sleep eluded her. So many times those memories had invaded her since. "Castle," she all but whispered, winning back his wandering focus, "you won me over long before that night in that hotel room. I just needed more time to get here."

"Here?" he asked.

"Pause the movie, Castle," she said as she inched towards him.


End file.
